In my home growing up, there always were a set of four
pictures on some wall. The four were
often in some hallway, and they were of the four seasons from one
perspective. In other words, some artist
had painted folksy scenes of one panorama of rural life, with a stone bridge
that spanned a stream, a prominent fruit-bearing tree, a church in the
background, and trees and hills in the foreground and background. The same view was what might have taken place
from this same early 20th century vantage point in the spring,
summer, fall, and winter seasons.
I always liked it, and when Mom and Dad passed away, I made
sure that I got these four pictures.
Today, they are prominently placed in my home, and they hark back to
simpler, gentler times in my life and in the world in general. Of all of the views, however, my favorite is
of the fall. Maybe it is because autumn
is my favorite time of year.
In fall, the heat of the summer is ebbing yet the
temperatures for the most part can still be moderate and not too cold. A frost often appears, and with it, the
deciduous trees begin their yearly ritual of shedding their leaves. Before they fall, however, nature puts on
some of its prettiest colors. Depending
on the type of tree, some leaves merely lose their greenness and turn a pale,
dirty brown while the leaves of others offer many different and splendid shades
of red, yellow and gold.
For me, I remember different fall seasons in my life. I remember raking leaves into a pile only to
jump into them and rake them up again. I
remember cheering myself hoarse at football games. I remember trick or treating at
Halloween. I remember making
Thanksgiving boxes for my kids to write what they and I were grateful for. I remember not the not-quite-cooked turkey of
our first Thanksgiving. I remember
picking berries off of pyracantha bushes and throwing them into holes or
garbage cans or under cars (or at my wife’s back on our walks!). I remember the smells of Halloween and
Thanksgiving.
It is a time of kids returning to school, of football games
on Friday night or Saturdays, of preparing to put away summer items like boats
and picnic tables, of getting out the warm weather clothing and putting away
the short sleeves and shorts (except if you live in Southern California), of
making plans for the coming holiday season, and in the end, of taking stock of
what needs to be done to make the transition from the busyness of summer to the
slowing down of fall and the eventual housebound season of winter.
As each year begins winding down to its close, I usually
reflect on what has happened during the previous months. I consider the changes that have transpired,
such as in the housing of family members.
I reflect on the year’s accomplishments and disappointments, and wonderful
times of vacation and nature excursions.
I mull over how I have changed and how others around me have changed as
well. I think about changes that have
occurred and are in the process of occurring in the social, economic, and
political worlds at home and abroad. I
begin to wonder about the inevitability of winter and cold and Christmas
shopping.
Of course, people who read my blog regularly will know that
I tend to look at deeper meanings in things, even to metaphors—those
occurrences in life that have nothing to do with a set of circumstances or a
given situation, but to which comparisons of some sort can be made.
In keeping with my tendency, I see the seasons as a metaphor
for “seasons” of one’s life. When life
is new, in our childhood and young adult years, temperatures (and hormones) are
warming up. Life is new, colorful,
exciting, and can be idyllic. It is a
time of little responsibility, of lots of fun, of curiosity and discovery, and
usually, of falling in love and finding a partner. Life’s possibilities seem endless and it is
time for idealism. We, like the trees
and flowers, are blooming and showing the world who we are. It is our Spring.
When that “season” ends, the temperatures turn decidedly
warmer, even becoming hot. Summer is here. We are in relationships now, children may
have come our way, and the heat of responsibility beats down upon us. We have bloomed and are in full flower in our
families, our careers, our abilities to make money, our physical bodies. We likely have a mortgage, maybe a student
loan, a car payment, and all of the other adult bills that we incur as we take
on responsibility. Illnesses and
childbirths and accidents all bring a certain “heat” to our lives. Arguably, it is the optimal time to
accomplish things because we have vitality and energy and enthusiasm for
life. And we need those attributes
because most of us have children who are now engaged in their own spring times.
Soon, however, while the temperatures are still warm, there
are occasional mornings of coolness. As
I am wont to say, there can seem to be a “nip” in the air at this autumnal time of year. Our physical bodies have endured the heat of
our summers and are starting to show signs of a transitional time. We are not quite so energetic, brought
painfully to mind whenever we are around grandchildren who are in their springtimes
as our children transition into their summers.
The hair on our heads like the leaves on the trees might be starting to
turn colors—white or gray, that is.
There are aches here, doctor appointments there.
We have managed to launch our children (hopefully) and we
see what characteristics good and bad we have advertently or inadvertently
bequeathed upon them. We are usually in
a fairly comfortable place financially and may be engaging in harvesting our
retirement fruits of the work planted in spring and nourished by the heat of
summer. We usually have figured life out
and are fairly comfortable with what we have chosen or what we have been dealt,
or both. We simply have quite a few
years under our belts (literally and figuratively) and we just know more than
we did during those fallow and fun days of youth and those blistering hot days
of responsibility and requirement.
Hopefully, we are wiser than we have been, if only because of what has
happened to us.
Winter lies ahead. It
is when the cold of sickness, illness, loss of companionship, loss of mental
acuity, and loss of endless opportunities rears its inevitable head. It can be a time to be quite housebound. It is a time of forgetfulness, of memories of
events long ago but not what happened the previous day. It is a time when the chill wind blows,
emptying the trees of their leaves and killing many of the flowers of earlier
times. It leads to an inevitable time of
death.
So here I am, transitioning into the autumn of my life. Are the
red “leaves” on my head turning gray?
Surprisingly, very little. Do my
bones ache in the morning? Yes, they
often do. Do I have the energy that I
used to have? No, but as I attempt to
stay active I find that I have enough (although I really like good naps that I
rarely can take!). Do I go to see
doctors a little more routinely? Yes,
but that’s okay. I am still as crazy and
offbeat as I used to be? Ask my children
grandchildren. Am I doing okay
financially? And retirement looms in the
future and we look to have sufficient for our needs, the good Lord willing and
the creek don’t rise.
Am I comfortable with who I am? That’s a loaded question, but overall, I am
glad to answer affirmatively. I am at
peace with who I am. As I tell many with
whom I counsel and do therapy, I have given God my past because I can’t do
anything about it. Although I make plans
for the colder days of fall and winter, I choose not to live in an
anxiety-filled future either. I am
choosing to live in the here and now, and while I am not always successful in
that endeavor, I feel a great serenity.
(Please read an earlier blog posting on the Serenity Prayer which I
attempt to live by.)
In this time of my life—this autumn of my life, I am really enjoying who I am! I pray each day that God grants to me as many
todays as possible because I am enjoying the one right now!
